


serenity

by hoegeta



Series: reasons why I'm going to hell [6]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Bath Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Wholesomeness, im just so soft for these two what do i do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26383225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoegeta/pseuds/hoegeta
Summary: It’s his favorite thing in the world, coming home to her.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Series: reasons why I'm going to hell [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842454
Comments: 13
Kudos: 163





	serenity

**Author's Note:**

> posting fics consistently and keeping yall well fed
> 
> im really proud of this one. idk why. i just really like it a lot fjdksjkd
> 
> warning: unedited bc im LAZYYYY

Cloud is exhausted.

He feels it down to the marrow of his bones, an inexplicable ache that even years of sleep will never truly wipe away. Delivery after delivery, to Kalm and then Junon and then Wutai and then Costa Del Sol. And no rest, not when his business is finally taking off. Maybe he’ll have to hire some helpers. 

The thought of it horrifies him.

It pains him, to be away from home for days, sometimes weeks on end. He’d never truly had a home, not after he left Nibelheim. And staying in raggedy inns, being in foreign places, it unsettles him, puts his soul in unrest, not having Tifa around him. Because for years, she’s always been around him, a constant, unmovable force of comfort at his side. 

Not having her with him, it’s lonely. Terribly so.

When he walks into the house, his shoulders fall, and he lets out a long breath, and his soul feels at peace again. Tifa’s on the couch, curled into a blanket, not quite asleep despite the creeping early morning hours, sunlight birthed from the sky and dipping into the hollows of her features. Drenched in warm, orange light, she turns to him, shutting the novel she’d been reading.

“You’re back!”

She always gets up to greet him, whether the trip was one week or one day. She wraps her arms around his neck, presses her chest close to his, and he sighs, drinking in her scent, the feeling of her against him, like comfort, like safety. Tifa’s embraces are safety, and he melts into her, his nose dipping into her neck.

“How was the trip?”

“It was fine,” he answers simply. His client nearly punched him in the face, but that’s a story for another day. “You aren’t tired?”

Tifa shakes her head. “Couldn’t sleep.”

She moves back, her palms sliding down to rest on his chest. She looks at him, her eyes wide and bright and twinkling, like they stole the stars right from the sky.

“Should I run you a bath?”

“It’s okay. I’ll just take a quick shower.”

She hums. “But _I_ want a bath.”

She lets go of him, her touch lingering, teasing, whispering over his senses like incense. She giggles prettily as she disappears into the hallway, her voice fluttering through his ears, calling after him. And he follows her like a moth would a light, feels himself to be mesmerized, completely and utterly at her mercy. If Tifa wants a bath, then they’re damn well going to take a bath.

When he walks into the bathroom, she’s bent over the tub, futzing with the water faucets. He removes his boots and gloves, sets them to the side. She lets the water run as she turns to face him, her fingers curling into the hem of her shirt. He watches her, every single twitch of her hands as she pulls her shirt over her head, discards it into the hamper. She isn’t wearing a bra.

Cloud’s breath hitches in his throat. God. _God_. Tifa’s so beautiful it aches. He never gets tired of looking at her, at absorbing her and all that she is, all the little details. The mole on her left breast. The pucker of her lips. The way her lashes flutter. The teardrop earring she loves to wear. The way she swipes her fringe out of her eyes. He mars it all into his memory, thinks of these moments when he’s away from her and missing her the most. Loves all that she is, loves everything that makes her _her_. Something blooms in his chest, skittering down to his stomach where an incessant heat begins to pool as she goes to take off her shorts.

She’s wearing his favorite red lace panties.

God, she’s going to make him fucking drop dead one of these days.

She bends over to switch off the faucet, dips her fingertips into the rippling surface of the water. After, she stands upright, tilting her head at him.

“You can’t get into the bath fully dressed, silly.”

Tifa walks to him, starts with his zipper, dragging it down his torso with a pace that makes him fidget. It’s been weeks since they’ve done anything, and perhaps he’s a bit desperate. A bit needy for her and her touch. He’s wound up taut, and the slightest of movements is going to make him erupt. Tifa, naked in front of him, undressing him, it’s nearly too much to bear.

She goes for his pants next, and he helps her with them, unbuckles his belt and slides them down his legs. He steps out of them, then his boxers, and he’s as bare as her. She takes his hand and leads him into the tub, getting in first. He follows, the water like a caress of warmth over his tired, tired soul. His limbs melt against the edge of the tub and the tile behind him, his eyes falling closed. Peace. He feels at peace.

In the water, Tifa stretches out her leg, teasingly poking at his thigh with her toes. He opens his eyes, looks at her and the wet strands of her hair, stuck to her skin like threads of black vines, and he reaches forward. He pulls her into his lap, and she wraps her arms around him, kissing him softly on his forehead.

“I missed you,” she says. He wasn’t gone for long, but it felt like an eternity.

“Missed you too,” he mumbles against her shoulder.

“You promised Denzel and Marlene you’d take them to the Gold Saucer when you got back.”

Oh. Right. “Will you come too?”

“What about the bar?”

“Close it,” he says simply. She huffs.

“I can’t just close it.”

Cloud dips forward, pressing his lips against hers. The kiss is gentle, each stroke of her tongue with his sending his insides into a disarray. His palms slide down her back, riding the curved bumps of her spine, and she shudders a bit against him, moaning into the corner of his mouth.

That _sound_. It breaks him, makes him go a bit dizzy. Tifa moaning, her voice husked and breathy and needy, needy for him and him only. It pleases him, how he’s the only one who can pull those sounds out of her, make her tremble and writhe and scream out his name.

Not now, Cloud thinks. Not when the kids are asleep.

But damn, he’s fucking _hard_.

“Tifa,” he says, and he doesn’t know why. She moves closer to him, her breasts pressed against his chest, her core pressed against his cock. God. Fuck. Shit. It’s torture, Tifa right there, right above him, her warmth seeping into his. She kisses him messily, curls her tongue around his, takes her time in exploring his mouth. His hands move up and palm her breasts, twirling her nipples with his fingers. She pulls back, and he holds this image of her fondly in his memory, her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, the breathlessness. He plays with her nipples, likes how full her breasts always feel in his hands.

She moves her hips against him, dragging her lower lips up the length of his cock, and his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head.

Fuck. She’s hot.

“I missed _this_ ,” she moans, rubbing herself against him. It’s torture. Absolute torture. He’d do anything to be buried inside her right now.

“Tifa,” he calls, his hands molding into her hips, halting her. “I...”

She hums, uncaring of his hold on her. She rubs herself against his cock, and he jerks, his toes curling in the water.

“What do you want?”

“You,” he groans. “You— _fuck_ —wanna be inside you...”

Tifa moves herself up, dips her hands into the water to hold his cock. She strokes it once before she positions it at her entrance, raking the head of it up and down her slit. She doesn’t take him, not yet.

 _Torture_.

“ _Tifa_ ,” he whines, and she giggles at him.

“I like it when you get desperate.”

He doesn’t get the chance to respond, because she comes down onto him, sheathing him entirely within her. Cloud moans, his head falling back against the tiled wall. _Tight_. Tifa’s tight and hot and impossibly wet around him, and every time they do this, he never, ever gets over how perfectly he fits inside her. Her walls flutter around him as she moves up and down, riding him as the water ripples around her. He holds her close to him, drenching any skin he can reach in lingering, open-mouthed kisses. Tifa’s moans graze his eardrums like petals, echoing over the walls. She clenches around him, and he slides his hand in between their bodies, rubbing her hard clit with his fingers.

“Cloud,” she moans, holding onto his shoulders for leverage. “God, _god_.”

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” 

“Maybe,” she sings, a slight smirk carved into her lips. Cloud kisses it, kisses her right on the corner of her mouth as her lips part, her pace getting erratic, frenzied, desperate.

He likes when she gets desperate too.

“I’m...” she pants, and he’s entranced by the way she moves on him, her breasts bouncing up and down, her skin brushed in a light hue of red. He rubs at her clit, hard and quick, just the way she likes, and her features contort, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. “I’m gonna—oh _god_ , Cloud, _Cloud_ —”

Tifa comes, long and hard, her mouth caught around his name. Her body trembles, her back arching as her walls spasm around him. Watching her unravel above him, chanting his name, brings him to his peak as well, and his orgasm crashes over him in waves, seizing every single one of his nerves as he spills within the furthest depths of her. He shivers, his fingertips digging into her thighs as she holds him inside her, grinds against him, dragging out his high as far as it’ll go.

When the pleasure releases him from its grasp, he slumps against the tub, spent in the loveliest way possible. Tifa keeps him nestled inside her for a few moments, their bodies still singing in the aftermath of their pleasure. She presses her forehead against his, catching her breath.

“I missed that,” she groans. “So much.”

Yeah. He did too.

The water has long gone cold. He looks down, sees the mess they’ve made, and Tifa lifts herself off him, and he shamelessly watches his cum as it drips out of her entrance, streaming down her thigh.

He likes coming inside her. He won’t deny it. Why should he?

“Now we should take that shower,” she says, laughing a bit. He agrees, standing up and watching her as she drains the water and goes to turn on the faucet. 

“Tifa,” he calls, and he doesn’t really know why. She looks at him, and he’s tongue-tied by her eyes, like they’re holding his soul captive. He stares at her, drinks her in, bathes in her and everything that she is. He breathes in, his deeply-settled fatigue slowly draining away.

He’s at peace. He’s home, finally back to her.

“I love you.”

She gives a wide, breathtaking smile, so lovely he nearly falls over.

“I love you too.”

It’s his favorite thing in the world, coming home to her.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading <3


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